Seeing Red
by irisis
Summary: Addition to the Season Four episode Red Pt 1 from Claire's POV. Established Nallen. One shot.


Claire took a deep breath, inhaled the poison with practised ease and efficiency, and exhaled. The smoke disappeared into the dry, blinding Southern Californian sunshine as quickly as it left her mouth.

She let the hand clutching the cigarette fall to her side and shielded her eyes with the other, sparing a quick glance of disgust at the dumpster which lay between her and the door. As if on cue, she heard the door burst open and instinctively crouched out of sight. She was in no mood for another lecture on the dangers of smoking from Dave; he could go to hell. She worked bloody hard and it was her sole vice.

Despite her conviction she ground the cigarette butt under her heel as she strained her hearing. She knew right away that it wasn't Dave; the tread was light and feminine, punctuated by the dull click of a low heel. She debated whether or not to reveal herself when her ears were suddenly assaulted by the loud crash of a trash-can hitting the concrete floor and rolling in the opposite direction, followed by a string of very naughty words from her mystery guest.

Although there was something vaguely familiar about the voice she couldn't put a face to it. Regardless, whoever it was they were obviously in a foul mood and she had no intention of intruding on their stress relief. Was there another way back in nearby? Just as she was about to dart away to find out, the door opened again and she instinctively froze.

"There you are." Now that voice she knew. It was Special Agent Callen, but his tone was anxious and lacking his usual confidence or sass. It was extremely unlikely that he had spotted her.

When there was no reply, he spoke again. "You okay?"

"No, not really," came the immediate reply from his companion. Something about the vocal inflection made Claire realise who Callen's companion was: it was Nell, the short Analyst. "Sam's just been filling me in on your time in Idaho. Apparently you and Paris hit it off _great_." Nell's words were scornful and full of what had to be jealousy.

Claire let her head fall into her open hands and stifled a sigh. What the hell had she accidentally stumbled across?

Callen was speaking again, and the confidence was back. "That's what you're upset about? Nell, I have to flirt with her to keep up the pretence of being single. It's that or Sam gets suspicious. Is that what you want?"

There was a brief silence during which Claire began to furiously crave more nicotine. She fidgeted with her fingers instead.

"And honestly, as far as flirting goes, it was the worst. I made a joke about peeing when trying to compliment her."

She barely heard Nell's low laugh, as focused as she was on having another smoke and the cramp now creeping into her lower legs.

"I missed you." Callen's voice again, barely audible now, followed by a long stretch of nothingness. All she could hear was the distant sound of traffic; maybe they had gone back inside? The cramp was spreading higher and she couldn't remain in this position for much longer. With a grim resolve, she peered quickly over her shoulder, around the corner of the dumpster.

Nell was pressed firmly between Callen and the wall; his hands were in her hair, his mouth on hers. Nell's hands she couldn't see.

Fuckity, fuckity, fuck. If she was spotted now she would look like a pervert, and a pathetic one at that. Perhaps her best move would be to make her escape now whilst they were distracted.

Just as she began to straighten her protesting leg muscles she heard Callen and Nell pull apart, straighten up, and open and close the door. She counted to ten to be safe and then emerged from her hiding place. The coast was clear.

She should probably head back in herself in case anyone had noticed her growing absence, but was determined to finish her smoke first. She deliberately didn't think about what she had just witnessed. She wasn't a gossip, and preferred to keep her mind on the job.

Claire pulled out a new cigarette, placed it between her lips and began searching her pockets for her lighter. She barely suppressed a hiss of annoyance when the door opened once more, and turned to discover Dave had joined her. He looked mildly disapproving.

"Great timing," he said dryly, pulling out his smart phone. "I added some new photos of the effect of smoking on the lungs just yesterday."


End file.
